


The Charitable Man

by Elena27Louise



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 21:43:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5391449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elena27Louise/pseuds/Elena27Louise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a wealthy Heiress goes missing Mycroft push Sherlock and John into taking the case. What seems to be a dull, straightforward case turns very sinister very quickly. Has Sherlock bitten off more than he can chew with this one?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Guys thank you so much for reading. I think the first thing I need to point out that this is a... semi Adlock... (That's the only way I can describe it atm) And this story is set after John and Mary's wedding but His Last Vow does not happen in this story. (Well kinda does but we'll talk about that later) The characters like CAM and Janine will be in it. I've had this idea for ages but never been confident about writing it up until now. So... yeah I hope this makes sense... so I hope you like it :) xx
> 
> One thing you should know is in my story Sherlock and John have been partners for over ten years... we all alright with that? Good. xx
> 
> BTW I am dyslexic so there may be mistakes I do not see so if there are any mistakes I've not seen please make me aware and I'll do my best to correct them :) thanks xx
> 
> I have uploaded this to my fanfiction account. Like on here screen name my name is Elena27Louise, and 'The Charitable Man' is the title xx

To Sherlock Holmes she would always be The Woman. No other name would ever be more appropriate or indeed more suitable. The Woman. Sherlock Holmes didn't think about people often, he had far more important tasks to occupy his time. Doing Gabe Lestrade's work for him, belittling Donavan's affair with her next door neighbour's boyfriend (Did she really have no standards?) and making sure Mycroft was too busy looking for his ID pass than to start putting camera's in the flat. For the moment that definitely wasn't the case, at least not any time soon. Having to explain why his ID was found in a slum in Peckham was unlikely a conversation he wanted to have with his superiors. Sometimes having a homeless network did wonders for messing with your big brother's sanity and more importantly his ego.

But every once in a while Sherlock would do nothing. No cases, no clients, no crime. He would just sit and think. Sit in silence and travel back through his mind palace and find her. He didn't go to his mind palace to fantasize about her. He searched for Irene Adler just to observe her. Sherlock would think about his last encounter with the Woman. Eight years seemed to just have passed by in the blink of an eye. Many things seemed to have passed too quickly. Taking out all of Moriarty's network, coming back from the dead… John moving out of 221b and marrying Mary. Of course Sherlock would never admit it but without John's presence in the flat, Sherlock's home life seemed a lot quieter and lonelier. A lot like it had before the two had met. Even Mrs Hudson's chatter (which Sherlock had started to avoid due to the lack of finishing sentences on her part) couldn't quite fill the gaping hole of a missing human. But Sherlock was not one for moaning about things that could not be changed no matter how much he might want it to. Sherlock knew he would see John again. They would still go on cases. They would still do things like in the good old days. But no matter how many times Sherlock tried to rationalized these facts in his head, he knew things would not be the same.

It was just another dull afternoon when Sherlock was in one of these moments when Sherlock received the text from Mycroft.

 

**My office. 5 minutes. – M.**

**No – SH.**

**I thought you liked a good mystery? – M.**

 

Mystery? What was he a child? Mycroft probably could have debated that… but that wasn't the point. He wasn't going to be drawn out like a moth to the flame… or more appropriately a child to a sweetshop.

 

**Sounds perfectly dull – SH**

 

No. Sherlock refused to be manipulated by Mycroft again. The last time had been bad enough… but on the other hand the end result was… No. No No No! No more cases from Mycroft. He made that promise to not take any more cases not after… not after her. And he intended to keep it that way. And so said phone ended up tossed into the middle of the settee while Sherlock slouched into his chair, giving death glares to the chair opposite him. John's old chair. Empty. _Wonderful_. Another day just lounging about waiting for the next to come along and give something stimulating to do.

 That was until heard the soft clicking of footsteps slowing making their way up the stairs of 221b before a soft tapping knock on the door. Sherlock's glaring face softened and the corners of his mouth began to turn up into a smirk. He got up from his seat and made his way over to his phone and began typing out a text.

 

**Baker Street. Come at once if convenient.**

**If inconvenient come anyway.**

**Could be dangerous – SH**

 

Finally. They had a client! 

* * *

John couldn't have been more relieved when he received that text. Despite all the pleasures and advantages that marriage gave him, his job still remained the same. John was never one to complain about having a job, in fact his was very grateful for it considering all the stunts he had pulled while on a case with Sherlock (God knows why Sarah hadn't sacked him long ago) but today was just an incredible boring day. Not to sound like Sherlock Holmes but it was DULL. And the clock was beginning to play tricks on him. John felt like he was back at school waiting for the bell to go so he could just go home. But on the bright side he only had a half day. And that half a day ended… 20 seconds ago. Freedom. Well until he got the phone call from Mary asking him where the hell he was. Better text her now. 

Exactly at that moment was when Mary decided to ring him. For some reason Mary could always sense when people needed to get in touch with her so she'd ring them first… It was very weird to say the least. His psychic Mary and her voodoo powers. Though he didn't call her that. Last time he did he ended up with a dead arm. Mary didn't mess around. But he couldn't complain, Mary was one of very few women who would put up with a lot of his (Well Sherlock's really) antics. She enjoyed it actually. Their little adventures. The 'Bromance' as she called it though never around Sherlock. Sherlock threw a fit last time she said it and to this day the carpet still doesn't fully cover the dent wood in the floorboard. John couldn't conceal the smirk on his face. A Sherlock story was always a great ice-breaker at awkward party.

 Making his way up to Baker Street he noticed the sound of Sherlock playing his violin. A strange low melody. This confused John slightly. Sherlock usually composed when he'd finished a case or if he was in deep thought. Why ask him to come quickly if he was just composing?

 

"When you're done staring at the walls John you might want to meet our guest"

 

That pulled John out of his thoughts and made him walk up the stairs into the flat.

 

"Yeah… sorry… I was just thinking"

 

Sherlock's arched his eyebrow. John just rolled his eyes. No matter how much time they spent apart Sherlock would always be the ‘arrogant prick’ but still his best mate. And by this point, after living with Sherlock's attitude for so long, John didn't find it as irritating anymore. Well maybe a bit but it could be quite amusing.

 Sherlock placed his violin down and slowly walked over to his chair and sat down placing his hands in the steeple position. It was then John realised that someone was sitting in his chair and Sherlock was eyeing him.

 

"John. Meet our new client"

 

John looked over at the man sitting in his chair. Blue suit. Sharp-looking, and well fitted… Almost reminded John of something Mycroft would wear. Silver cufflinks. Expensive. Probably Armani or Ralph Lauren. Shoes. New shoes. No scuff marks. Tanned face. Obviously just come from abroad. John stopped. _Oh Jesus no_. John had started deducing. _Stop it just stop._

 

"Yes.. urmm nice to meet you Mr..Urmm"

 

"Smith" The man raised from his seat and gave John a strong handshake.

 

John looked over at Sherlock who was eyeing the man intensely.

 

"Smith?"

 

"Yes Doctor Watson. Just Smith. Common I know but still..

 

"Useful to keep one's true identity safe" Sherlock interjected "Don't insult our intelligence and just tell us what you want".

 

The man almost flustered but remained composed as he went to the side of John's chair and picked up a black brief case. He pulled out a folder with the word Confidential plastered across it and handed it over to John who took it with slight confusion on his face.

 

"The information in that folder in classified. But my employer has directed me to make sure this information is passed on to you both"

 

Sherlock rolled his eyes. And stood from his chair walking towards the door.

 

"I don't take anonymous clients. Now if you're done wasting our times you can find your own way out"

 

Smith didn't make any attempt to move. He stood in his place smirking.

 

"I was warned about your lack of patience Mr Holmes but you are going to want to read that file"

 

"Why?"

 

"Because it has information on a person of interest to you Mr Holmes"

 

At this Sherlock turned slightly. Not quite intrigued but there was some small, tiny part or him that wanted to know.

 

"Who?"

 

"Mr Holmes how much information do you have on Frances Carfax?"


	2. Chapter 2

“Absolutely nothing”

 

“Then you should be paying more attention”

 

The corner of John's lips started to curl into a smirk. _Now where have I heard that before_ he wondered? Sensing the gaze of their guest John quickly wiped the smirk from his face and instead offered a polite smile, not that it did him any good. What John had thought was a gaze turned out to be a glare that only hardened when they're eyes met. Many other clients had done this before but it still shocked John how ignorant and rude some people could be.

Despite his and Sherlock's growing popularity thanks to John's blog, most of their potential and current clients went purely for Sherlock's aid. John was merely an accessory to the fact. And despite John’s reluctant acceptance of this, it would be nice to be acknowledged for once, purely out of politeness if nothing else (even though if it wasn't for John's help some of those cases wouldn't have been solved no matter what Sherlock Holmes said).

 

"Frances Carfax or should I say Lady Frances Carfax, known as Frankie to her close friends and family has had a few public... Incidents throughout the past few months".

 

 _Now who did that sound like_ thought John. But then he remembered. No John. Now's not the time for that… But when he thought about it that woman's name did sound somewhat familiar. Wasn't she like the Paris Hilton of the UK. Spoilt little princess with nothing better to do then crash her cars, drink and party.

 

"The Heiress? Isn't she the sole heir to her father's estate of five-star hotels or the should I say the money they make from them?"

 

Smith turned back to John with an eyebrow raised seemingly impressed with John's knowledge of the subject. "Very aware of your billionaires Doctor Watson?" Not really. John didn't really have time for celebrity gossip. It was all a waste of time in his opinion but you can't really not notice when the first thing that appears on the front of the paper or the news channels was another crashed Lamborghini and a copper leading another hyped up celeb shouting all sorts of abusive things while being handcuffed and put into the back of a police van.

 

“Doctor Watson, Carfax’s hotels are not just a luxury for the rich and famous. They play a massive role in hosting…”

 

"It's an international business isn't it? Their hotels play host to international conferences for political parties"

 

Seemingly impressed with John's answer Smith gave an obviously false smile. "Very good"

 

 _Really?_ Thought John. _No gold star or well done stamp on my work?_ Even Sherlock's not that condescending.

 

“Has all the information useless information you’ve given us actually going to become interesting? Because if it’s not I assume you can find the door” huffed Sherlock. John smirked. It was a wonder that Sherlock had lasted this long before showing his boredom for what he thought was useless.

 

“Of course” Smith straightened himself up. “About a month ago Sir Carfax passed away leaving his fortune and business to Miss Carfax. But she is facing… certain legal issues in terms of the money. Her claim to it is being questioned”

 

That didn’t make much sense. If her father left it to her why would there be any issue?

 

“In what way?” asked John confused?

 

“DNA” said Smith. “To put it quite plainly Doctor Watson, ever since Lady Carfax’s father passed away there has been major debate as to whether the inheritance her father left behind is her to claim”

 

Sherlock just sat in his chair unimpressed as per usual. "So my brother sent one of his lackeys over to have me deduce what a simple DNA test could prove? Next case". Smith was unfazed by Sherlock's reaction merely picked up his briefcase pulling out a piece of paper.

 

"Mr Holmes there's no uncertainty of Lady Carfax's paternity" replied Smith passing over the document. "She is the daughter of Lord Carfax".

 

That may even less sense.

 

"If there's no uncertainty of Miss Carfax's paternity then why would she have any worry about claiming her inheritance?" questioned John.

 

This only made Smith laugh. "Doctor Watson, if there wasn't any sort of questioning about anyone's rightful claim to that money I'd be more than surprised. The truth of the matter is, where money is concerned, especially amongst the elite society, anyone and everyone will try and get a slice of the action so to speak. Even stooping so low as to question any entitlement due to her gender"

 

"So misogyny does play a part in women's money... when did we go back to 1800s?"

 

"It doesn't matter!" Snapped Sherlock huffed in frustration and glared at the man in front of him. "If you have this information _Mr Smith_ , why are you here?!"

 

"She's missing Mr Holmes"

* * *

"You know when you said extended honeymoon I thought you meant it would a romantic getaway not running around Switzerland for lord Nibbs" huffed Mary trying to read the directions on the map. "Why hasn't his highness come with us anyway?"

 

"Because he's Sherlock Holmes and he's the laziest cockend we've ever come across" laughed John from the driver's seat.

 

"You know very well that I can hear you both so stop trying to make a point" came a harsh voice from the dashboard. Sherlock's sudden reluctance of travelling to Switzerland, where Frankie had last been seen, had resulted in his face being plastered on the front of Mary's phone. "Sorry Sherlock but I really don't understand why you needed us to travel all the way out here for you".

 

"As I have told you both on numerous occasions, I will not leave the flat for anything less than a seven"

 

"Oh the fake number system that can get you out of doing any work. Sherlock you do realise you're not twelve. You don't have to pretend to be ill to get out of exams" mused Mary making John smirk. Sherlock, however, remained stoney faced and unimpressed.

 

"If you're both done making terrible attempts at humour I thought you'd like to know what our good friend Mr Smith was able to tell us"

 

John and Mary collectively rolled their eyes. "Go on then" said Mary "what did he say?"

 

"Smith faxed me over her last transactions, turns out our little heiress made two payments. One to her personally playboy Darius Masters" John and Mary just cringed. "Playboy?"

 

"Prostitute"

 

Oh lovely. Wonder how daddy would've reacted if he'd known what his little girl was up to in his own hotel. "And another to her maid before she disappeared"

 

"So what we thinking... her little toy decided he wanted more than what she was paying him?" asked John.

 

"No. Her male friend has already been picked up by the authorities before she went missing. Turns out he's not too impressed with being stuck in a cell waiting for her to pay his bail money. He had a choice of colourful words when I spoke to him on the phone"

 

"Okay so what about the maid?" asked Mary.

 

"Marie Devine, she was employed by Miss Carfax 4 years ago"

 

Mary and John waited for Sherlock to continue. But all there was silence. Surely there was more than that!

 

"That's it?"

 

"Yes"

 

"That's it? You've got nothing else to tell us?"

 

"I've just told you both. That's it. Is there a faulty connection or are have you both gone suddenly deaf?"

 

Seriously? He sent them all the way to Switzerland with nothing but a name?

 

"Seriously?" exclaimed Mary. "A name? That's all you've got for us, a name? What happened to Sherlock Holmes who never misses anything? Can't you have least found us a photo?"

 

Sherlock just snorted. "Mary how do you think Lord Carfax's business stayed rich? Many of the staff will have been hired on a cash only basis. I doubt these workers or the Carfax's lawyers want any record of their people. Especially of those who no doubt shouldn't be there"

 

Okay fair enough that made sense.

 

"Okay so we're are you sending us off to then Sherlock?"

 

"Well Smith managed to get me in touch with Miss Carfax's former nanny Miss Dobney. Basically brought her up. If there's anyone who will have any useful information on where Miss Carfax and Miss Devine could have gone. I need my best man and woman on interrogation"

 

Sherlock’s mother must have never used the term _flattery gets you nowhere_. Then again flattery pretty much got Sherlock everywhere… he could be incredibly charming when he wanted to be.


	3. Chapter 3

Carfax Hotel was situated in the dead centre of Bern and what was to be expected of a grand hotel. Incredibly tall, a selection of different countries flags hanging above the entrance and many posh looking people walking in and out. Mary and John felt very out of place in their jeans and t-shirts that many of the guests showed their disapproval for by scowling and turning up their noses as the couple walked past. Ignoring the blatant snobbery they both headed to the front desk. Before John even had the chance to say anything the young man, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-four, eyes widened.

 

“John Watson?!”

 

Shocked by the sudden outburst, John merely stared confused at the lad while Mary tried (and failed) not to smirk.

 

“Yes…”

 

The lad seemed to freeze for a moment before suddenly realising the man was actually in front of him. “Oh I’m sorry sir it’s just... I’m a massive fan of your blog. The aluminium crutch is particularly brilliant” said the lad. John turned to Mary and smirked himself. He knew his blog was the reason he and Sherlock had clients in the UK but he hadn’t realised he had some international followers.

 

“Well thank you. It’s always nice to meet people who enjoy my blog” John said sincerely.

 

“Taking a break from the mystery solving sir?” asked the lad (what did his badge say) Felix.

 

“No actually” Mary jumped in. “Business. We’re looking for a Miss Dobney”

 

“Miss Dobney?” asked Felix. “The old lady? I don’t think I’ve ever heard anyone ask for her. May I inquire to what this is about?”

 

“We just need to talk to her. We’ve been told she use to nanny of the late Sir Carfax’s daughter Frances?”

 

This was when the excitement Felix had had when John had walked in started to fade. “Oh” he said uncomfortably. “Urmm… you can usually find her wondering around the lobby around this time of day. If not she’s probably in her room. I should warn you sir… she can be a bit… bitter so to speak”

 

“Bitter?” questioned Mary.

 

“Yes. She and Frankie… do not exactly see eye to eye. Especially not since Sir Carfax’s death”

 

“Why would that be?”

 

“Honestly I couldn’t say. Only rumours and gossip which half the time are just made up by the staff for something to talk about during their lunch breaks. You’d have to ask her”

* * *

 

“Frances was a beautiful little girl” said Miss Dobney sipping at her tea. Miss Dobney as it turned out was a reclusive eighty year old woman. “Always running around causing some sort of mischief, but incredibly sweet and polite. Wouldn’t harm a fly. I really don’t know what happened” she sighed.

 

“So you haven’t seen or heard from her?”

 

Miss Dobney shook her head. “No, not since just after her father passed away”

 

Mary was jotting notes on a pad while John was staring at the old lady. “And you don’t find it strange that no one’s seen her heard from her in almost two weeks?”

 

She wasn’t certain but Mary was quite sure the old woman had just rolled her eyes at her or at least attempted to.

 

“Mrs Watson when Frances turned eighteen she went to Greece for a week-long business meeting and no one heard from her for Four months. Her father and I were sick with worry. When she finally came home James threatened to disinherit her if she ever did something that stupid again. Never did though. Probably would have done her some good”

 

“I’m sorry Miss Dobney, I don’t mean to offend you but even if it was 20 years ago you were her nanny… well aren’t you… urmm”

 

“To old?” Miss Dobney interrupted laughing slightly. “Doctor Watson, I may have been around a while but that doesn’t stop me from knowing how to look after children. And sitting around a fancy hotel doing nothing loses its charm after a few years”

 

After taking another sip of her tea she continued “I grew up with Frances grandfather Arthur. Our fathers were business partners and that’s how we became close friends. He was like the brother I never had. Stuck with each other through thick and thin we did. Through the good times and bad. The late Mr Carfax, James, was when three Arthur and Josie his wife, died in a car accident”  
She stopped for a moment. Almost as if the words hurt physically.

“They had no other family so I took him in and raised James as my own. When James grew up he started becoming successful in the industry. He opened his first hotel and moved me into an apartment in London. He said he wanted to take care of me the way I had taken care of him. James married, became more successful, had Frances, became more even successful then before and was thrusted into spotlight. But that’s when the arguments started. Him and her going at it all the time about money, business, cheating. Not the sort of environment a little girl should be in. So we all decided it would be best for Frances to be away from it all. So he asked me to come here to Switzerland and look after her while they sorted through everything. It’s good thing too, nasty divorce James had. Very public. Not right to involve children in that sort of thing”

 

John and Mary gave each other a sideways glance. “We’d heard” John began “That you and Frances had had a bit of a falling out or argument of some sort”

 

Miss Dobney scoffed. “It wasn’t a fall out. And anyone who knows us will tell you we always argued. When girls get to a certain age they argue with you about everything and anything. Can’t tell her what to do any more as she likes to remind me. She knows full well I don’t approve of the things she does now. She’s got all the brains in the world and she’d rather go running around acting like some sort of harlot” Miss Dobney spat out that last before becoming silent for a moment almost regretting her words. “She use to be so… good. I’m sorry I’m going on”

 

“It’s quite alright Miss Dobney” said Mary sincerely. “If you don’t mind my asking what were you arguing about specifically?”

 

Miss Dobney sighed. “She wanted me to post bail for that little mate of hers. I told her I wouldn’t. You’re the heiress not me I told her. Her face when I said that was like thunder. Started shouting the odds. Nothing I haven’t heard before. Stormed out of here and that was that the last I saw of her”

 

“Why would she ask you to pay for something like that when she has money herself?” John questioned.

 

“How do you think the rich stay rich Doctor Watson? She might not act like it half the time but she is intelligent. She never pays for anything if she can help it. And me, well I have a lot of money that I doubt I’m going to spend any time soon and her father gave me these rooms for free. I’m the perfect candidate aren’t I? Look Doctor Watson, I appreciate the concern you’ve shown for Frances but I promise you she’s fine. She’s probably passed out in some man’s bed in Rio. The only thing you should be worried about is what she might catch”

* * *

 

Mary and John skyped Sherlock after their meeting with Miss Dobney. The information they’d used was practically useless. Didn’t tell Sherlock anything he didn’t already know. John and Mary had decided to start looking for the maid, Marie Devine. Which meant now he had to play the waiting game.

Sherlock had already looked into the Carfax’s bank accounts. Hotel expenses, car repairs, flat renovations, food and drink. All very typical things to find on record for a young heiress in the hotel business but nothing to say where she might have gone. Frankie hadn’t used any of her credits cards since before she’d done her disappearing act. She must still be in Switzerland. Simply deduction. Famous heiress can’t get anywhere without being snapped by someone. He grabbed his laptop and started searching through celebrity gossip sites. He was so focused on the task at hand that he barely heard the sound.

The sound he had not heard in a great many years. Sherlock slowly turned and stared at his phone that was sitting on the arm of his chair. He made his way over and picked up and read the message.

 

**Leave it alone Sherlock – W.**

 

Sherlock couldn’t decide whether he should be shocked or amused.

 

**What have you done? – SH.**

 

**Please Sherlock. Just leave it alone. – W.**

 

**Well I can’t now can I? Tell me what you have done and let me help you. – SH.**

 

**No Sherlock. You can’t help me. No one can. – W.**

 

Oh damn you you stubborn Woman! He could have thrown the phone at the wall had he not needed it. He knew that it was unlikely she was going to stay on the straight and narrow after the incident with Moriarty but she could have of at least made the effort! He had not put in so much effort in helping her create a new life for herself to watch her throw it away for nothing. Moriarty might not be around anymore but he wasn’t the only one she’d crossed. She’d made plenty of enemies even before they had met.

He had to think about this logically. A list of logical pros and cons of becoming too involved with her again. But no matter how many times he went over this list there was only one solution that decided to stand out. Grabbing his phone he sunk into chair scowling slightly.

 

“Hello Mycroft my dearest brother. How is your day going?”

 

Why did doing the right thing mean he had to kiss Mycroft’s arse?

* * *

 

 “What happened to I won’t leave the flat for anything under a seven?” smirked Mary as she sipped her soup. The hotel and residents had been too much for Mary and John’s liking so they had decided to meet in a café down the road.

Sherlock had avoided looking at Mary since he’d gotten there. Mary was one of the few people he knew who could SOMETIMES ON VERY RARE OCCASIONS get the better of him. Instead, he opted to stare at his phone. “I decided that though your efforts have been consistent I need to view the situation with my own eyes”

 

“Meaning you don’t trust our judgements?”

 

“Meaning you see but do not observe” Sherlock said cocky as ever causing Mary and John to roll their eyes. “What did you find out about the maid?”

 

“Marie Devine? Everyone pretty much said the same thing. Nice girl, polite, well dressed” said John. “She and Frankie seemed to get on pretty well according to one of her colleagues. Said they sometimes went out together”

 

“The heiress and the maid? Seems like an odd couple” commented Mary.

 

“Very” Sherlock mused. “Anything else?”

 

“Yeah her address” said John wiping his mouth before pulling a note out of his pocket. “Wrote it down”

 

Sherlock took the piece of paper from John and scanned it. His lips curled up slightly before standing up from the table and walking away. John and Mary rolled their eyes and quickly gathered up their things, throwing some money on to the table before running to catch up with Sherlock. “You could have waited!”

 

“Nope”

 

“And why not?”

 

“Because I recognise this address”

 

“Marie Devine’s address?”

 

“Nope. The address of the apartment that Frankie Carfax paid to have completely renovated”


End file.
